


In The Lair

by VirgilsWritings



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Basically Virgil has regret, Gen, Panic, Regret, and he thinks about it, heavy thinking, thats it, thats the whole thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25959271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirgilsWritings/pseuds/VirgilsWritings
Summary: He doesn’t remember fighting; he doesn’t remember the screams or the sounds or even why he had done that in the first place. He had blacked out. His thoughts stop, and Virgil pulls his legs up to the bed, wrapping his arms around his knees while he listened to some music softly.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	In The Lair

**Author's Note:**

> Hey if you didn't read the tags then this is just Angst with Regret and a lot of thinking. I love making Virgil angsty so here you go <3

“Virgil! Stop it! Get off of him!” Patton didn’t even have that fatherly tone to his voice. In fact, it had a shrilly tone that made him sound scared more than anything. Maybe that should have been enough to bring him out of it. But it didn’t help at all. 

He would argue that it only made it even worse. 

He could only see red, and nothing seemed to stop him. Well, nothing except the strong arms that wrapped around his torso and pulled him off of the other. However, those strong arms didn’t stop him from kicking and punching, at least until his arms were restricted. Finally, away from the person that was making him go berserk, he could stop and take full stock of his surroundings. 

Wait a minute. Why was he breathless? He couldn’t focus his eyes, they were darting everywhere, everywhere but the red. 

There was yelling and arguing; he could tell that it was his fault. He could feel his breath speeding up. What did he just do? Why were they yelling? Were they mad Virgil knew he was spiralling but he couldn’t do anything about it. The fact that he was restricted did not help at all. 

He couldn’t understand what they were saying, but he could hear an obnoxiously nasally voice saying something and then there was a hand covering his vision. Virgil moved his hand up to push it away but stopped as his hand touched the other’s arm. Laced sleeves. 

Virgil calmed down a little more, trying to remember what happened. But before that could happen, Virgil felt the air around him change. It was much cooler Virgil had to blink a couple of times to make them adjust to the dim light of the lair. “Remus.” 

“Yes?” Virgil couldn’t think of anything to ask the other, he couldn’t find any explanation, and he was definitely at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say? 

Remus seemed to understand his struggle. “Don’t worry about it. For now, we lay low. Your old room hasn’t been touched, even by me. You can go back to hating us afterwards but just stay down here for a couple of days.” Remus finally looked over to Virgil; his face was blank. So unusual that it nearly scared him, but he didn’t mention it. 

* * *

It’s been a month since he had that conversation with Remus. Yet he was still down here. As if he were some sort of prisoner. At least he was a willing one.

It felt weird to go back to his old routine. Well, almost his old routine. 

Everyday Janus made breakfast, and Virgil had to be honest, he missed eating with the others. There was nothing wrong with Patton’s food. It was just that everything was always sweeter. As if Patton added a pinch of sugar to everything he made. Janus usually had more variety. One day there would be something entirely sweet on his plate, and the next day it could be spicy enough to burn his face off. 

For the first couple of days, Virgil skipped out on coming to any meals though, opting instead to take the food that Janus left outside of the door to eat in his room. It was almost like he was punishing himself. But he wouldn’t say that. Virgil would say that he was mad, but he didn’t know if he was mad at himself or the others. 

After that, it had been on an off whenever Virgil would come out to eat. Somedays, he would just stare at the wall, remembering the reason that he was here in the first place. Other days he would make himself known to the others. He would sit in the kitchen or the living room, usually finding himself against a wall or in a corner despite his thoughts yelling at him that he needed to sit somewhere with more accessible exits. He had to remind himself that he was ok here. 

Sometimes Remus would come out and talk his ears off. It was annoying, but he rarely minded. 

Janus never really left out of his room. It was odd. Virgil was so used to seeing Janus curling up in the loveseat either nose deep in a book or all of the way into some sort of crime show. Virgil tried to ask Remus about it, but he just shrugged and went back to whatever current thing he was rambling about. Needless to say, that curiosity was tugging on his patched hoodie. 

Virgil was surprised at the fact that he even remembered where Janus’ room was. He was about to knock on the door, but his thoughts got the better of him. He wondered why he even came there in the first place when the door opened. 

Janus stared at him from the other side of the door, a blank expression stared down Virgil and he broke first, looking away. A beat and then the shorter side is stepping away from the door but letting it remain open a silent invitation, and Virgil takes it. 

It was warm in the room, much warmer than any other place in the lair. Virgil didn’t know what he was doing there. To be honest, he didn’t have a plan in the first place; he just wanted some reason to do something different for once. Needless to say, it felt weird being in Janus’ room again. He didn’t sit down in one of the chairs or on the bed like he would have when he was a part of them. Instead, Virgil paced around the room, looking at all the things items placed neatly around, reliving everything that he remembered in all of the trinkets. It nearly brought a smile to his face. 

That was when he saw a picture sitting on the dresser. It was obviously a replacement picture; he distinctly remembered there being a picture there with him in it. But that was no longer there, well that was probably for a good reason. But instead of mentioning it right away, Virgil looked over to Janus to find that he had sat down on one of the armchairs, staring at the anxious side. Virgil almost hated it. 

What he hated more than the stare itself was the fact that Janus just let him wander around his room as if Virgil never left, as if he never directly told Thomas not to trust them, any of them. 

“The picture changed,” Virgil said dumbly. Janus raised an eyebrow at the other. 

“As if you don’t know the reason behind it.” Janus’ eyes darted over to the other armchair and then back to Virgil. “Sit.” 

He commanded as if Virgil was a dog. He sat. “You knew I was coming.” 

“Maybe.” 

Virgil fiddled with the zipper on his sleeves and looked down. “Have I always been that violent.” 

“Shouldn’t you know?” 

“I don’t. Like I know that I’m fight or flight, but I don’t remember being so…” 

“Destructive?” 

Virgil opened his mouth as if wanting to say something. As if wanting to say some sort of rebuttal, but he couldn’t. That was what it genuinely is. It was destructive, not only the attack but the way that he dealt with it afterwards. Not once has Virgil even _thought_ about going back up to apologise even though he should. Even though he really, really should. “Ok, what should I do then?” 

“That is for you to figure out.” 

“Can’t you help me out for once?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“ _Janus._ ” 

“Destructive,” Janus said in a tone as if Virgil speaking his name in a slightly warning tone was proving his point.

That made Virgil stop. He took a deep breath and got up and out of the room. He didn’t need any more of… _this_. Whatever _this_ was.

Virgil wanted to get away from that room, and so he returned to his own. It had gathered a couple of other items as he stayed here, he had to have something of his own while he endured this hell.

At first, he was fine, after the fight had broken out Virgil had been brought to the lair. Immediately he went to his room. It was cold in there, but he was okay with that. Not like he wasn’t used to it. But Virgil had been so exhausted that he fell asleep instantly. 

The next day Virgil was pretty much ok, he had his phone, and the room felt familiar but in an odd nostalgic way. It was enough to keep him sated. But then even that wasn’t enough. At least not for long. 

That night Virgil was getting a little antsy, there was so much he could do about his music situation. Usually, he has his headphones which he used to keep the thoughts at bay. Of course, his phone speaker wasn’t going to cut it. But also the fact that he couldn’t find his old pair of headphones wasn’t going to cut it either. That was what sparked the idea of him going upstairs. He needed to get his headphones so that he could go back to the feeling of being slightly numb, as emo as that sounded.

Virgil knew that there was going to be a chance that he was going to get caught. He also knew that if Janus knew about this, then he would actively try to keep him down here. He knew that if Janus found out that he went up there and got caught that he would chain him down here like the others. But the thoughts and feeling swirling around his head was torture, and he didn’t want to find out what kind of rigged torture device Remus would give should he ask him for headphones instead. So going upstairs was going to have to do. No matter how much the voices in his head detested him. 

Well, Virgil did get caught. He couldn’t find his headphones. It was frustrating, to say the least. That was the whole reason he risked coming up here in the first place. That was the one thing that he needed. 

At first, he thought that maybe he had left it out in the commons. That he had just thoroughly fucked himself because now he had to walk around as if he didn’t- No he didn’t want to think about it. He was sure that it was in here. He just needed to find it. 

He had lost and found many things in his room all the time. I mean it was hard not to lose things when you just threw things wherever and decided to make it a future you problem. And this future him had about 24 hours to forget where last he threw his headphones. 

He would be able to find them for sure. He just had to look... everywhere. But that had led to him accidentally knocking down a stack of notebooks that he used to write in all of the time. Why did he leave those at the edge of the dresser?

Terrified for a second Virgil stayed in place, quieting his breathing and staring at the door. He was waiting for a sign that someone had heard the commotion. Quietly praying that no one did. After about a minute, Virgil quickly gathered the things he was going to bring with him and did a quick mental sweep of the room. That was when he finally saw his headphones, on the other side of the room that he had not gotten to yet. But at that very moment, the door opened. 

Patton was on the other side of the door. Virgil stopped in his tracks once again to stare at the father figure. 

“Kiddo, what are you doing-” 

“Please don’t tell Janus or anyone that I’m here.” Virgil whisper-yelled in a panic.

“Kiddo-” Patton’s eyes were pleading, Virgil knew that. Virgil also knew that he couldn’t fall for it. He was supposed to be in and out of here without being caught, and he even failed that.

“Please, I don’t want to get into any more trouble. I just wanted my headphones and a couple more things, and then I will be out of yours and everyone else’s hair.” 

Patton closed his mouth into a thin line and nodded. 

As soon as Virgil got the go-ahead, he walked over to his headphones and grabbed them, sinking into the lair once more so that he could set up his room how he wanted. He didn’t say anything to the other, and he genuinely hated it. But Virgil never heard of it again, so he assumed that Patton kept his promise. 

But that didn’t stop Virgil from thinking about it every once in a while. He felt terrible for leaving Patton like that. He didn’t even say goodbye, and he knew how important that was to Patton. He just didn’t want to get sucked into the emotions that would come with that. He knew for sure that he would cry if he did say anything to the other. 

He wishes that he could apologise, that he could no longer feel bad for the things that he did. But he would have to be honest; he doesn’t even remember enough of it to feel sorry. And he knows how shitty it sounds, but it was true. 

He doesn’t remember fighting; he doesn’t remember the screams or the sounds or even why he had done that in the first place. He had blacked out. His thoughts stop, and Virgil pulls his legs up to the bed, wrapping his arms around his knees while he listened to some music softly. Cancer by top had been playing, and Virgil opted to skip it. He didn’t need to be crying while he was thinking. That never led to anything good. Why was he thinking about this again? Right, his room. He lifted his head a little to look at the dresser. There was the card that Patton gave him when he was accepted into the light sides. He was happy that he brought it down; it usually gave him a bit of hope. But right now it just made him feel guilty. Maybe he was meant to feel that way. You never just feel guilty for no reason, right? Virgil wasn’t so sure; he didn’t feel sure about pretty much anything anymore. 


End file.
